


Presidents Day

by redlionspride



Category: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter - Seth Grahame-Smith
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, M/M, abraham doesn't like his birthday, for good reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlionspride/pseuds/redlionspride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Henry…” Abe tried to protest but sighed, carefully undoing the ribbon around the wrap. “You realize it’s completely unfair to give me gifts on my birthday when I can’t even return the favor. I’m going to start making up dates for your own birthday.”</p><p>“My date of birth is inconsequential. Yours however amuses me. Open it.”</p><p>“Bastard.” Abraham complained, but he was smiling anyhow. He undid the tape and spilled a book from the wrap. A brow raised high at the cover, before frowning deeply at the man. “Are you serious?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Presidents Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dramapunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramapunk/gifts).



> Another birthday gift for my friend. Kind of simple, not really edited too well and swiftly done, but still, I thought it was kind of cute. I did this a few months ago but felt I might actually post it now.
> 
> Comments are great encouragement to trying to decide if I should post more or not... thanks :D

When you are as old and as long lived as Henry you didn’t really bother with Birthdays. 

They were pointless things after a while, because you are no longer alive to really care. Hell, he had almost all but forgotten what date his own birthday was anyhow, and though Abraham always asked, he brushed it off as ‘so long ago, it’s unnatural.’

Today however was Abraham’s birthday, and everyone knew it. 

Mr. President had his own damn holiday for his birthday. February 12th was a day most Americans got off to celebrate all things Abraham. There were parades in some cities, and extravaganzas, parties and holiday sales. 

A holiday! The day his birthday had been turned into a holiday, Abraham had been so embarrassed and gobsmacked. He just didn’t understand why anyone would focus on just one mans day of birth like that. 

It was endearing. 

Since that day Abraham has also shunned his own birthday. “Enough people celebrate it for me. I certainly don’t need to do anything for it. It’s queer to see my face on so many objects, and what _does_ my birthday has to do with furniture and car sales!” 

It was the same thing every year. He complained about it, no longer desiring a birthday at all. 

Why did it matter anyhow, he was so very old now, being a vampire and all, it seemed wrong to take in festivities for someone already so very dead.

It was on his birthday however that a strange gift was given to him. Henry handed it to him, a small package wrapped in birthday wrap. Abraham started to protest at once. “You know I don’t like gifts. Birthday gifts least of all.”

“I know.” He simply said, moving in to kiss Abraham softly and pushing the gift further into his person. “Open it anyhow.”

“Henry…” Abe tried to protest but sighed, carefully undoing the ribbon around the wrap. “You realize it’s completely unfair to give me gifts on my birthday when I can’t even return the favor. I’m going to start making up dates for your own birthday.”

“My date of birth is inconsequential. Yours however amuses me. Open it.”

“Bastard.” Abraham complained, but he was smiling anyhow. He undid the tape and spilled a book from the wrap. A brow raised high at the cover, before frowning deeply at the man. “Are you serious?”

Henry nodded and moved in, leaning in at Abe’s shoulder and looking at the cover. “Hot off the press. First addition.”

“This isn’t the type of book I would expect from you.” He frowned, reading the title. _Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter_ “How is this even possible.”

“Oh, I have my ways. Look, it’s even signed.” He said, pointing out the signature of _Seth Grahame-Smith_ , as if this were someone of importance that everyone should know. He had heard of the man, in passing. Someone Henry was in contact with now, but he knew very little after that.

Abe flipped through the book, frowning over the contents. “I thought I threw those journals out, Henry.” He said, realizing how this information got out there.

“You didn’t throw them out, you gave them to me.”

“I told you to get rid of them. They’re pointless reminders of the past.”

“You told me to do as I wanted with them, as you never wanted to see them again. I did so.” Henry said as he looked up at his love. “Are you upset, Abraham?”

It took a moment to answer, flipping through things. Past his childhood, his mother, his sister and father. Past the boat he built and down the river. Past Ann and Jack and Speed. People long since dead. Past his wife Mary and his children. Past so many memories. “No. I’m not mad. Though I think this just invites us trouble. People will wonder.”

“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it. People will believe it fiction. Who would expect President Lincoln, a Vampire hunter. Half the world barely believes we exist.”

“Others will believe. You could be bringing us trouble.” Abe said, but was smiling as he kissed the man swiftly. “It looks completely ridiculous though. This wasn’t how things went.”

“Don’t be so sure, my dear Mr. President.” Henry teased and closed the book in Abe’s hands. “For now, let’s just enjoy the evening together. Perhaps if you’re nice I’ll read you a bit about you.” He took the book and wrap from the man’s hand and tossed them to a chair nearby, slipping his hands into Abe’s belt and pulling him closer, leaning in to kiss him as he did, leading him away to their bedroom playfully.

Henry was glad that Abraham had taken it well and found amusement in the entire book. His true story was out there and half the world would believe it fiction. 

“Happy Birthday, Mr. President.”


End file.
